


Be Not Afraid (of your new job and the complications that come with it)

by Thamys020



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: I have just grown as a person., Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Malcolm has Gender. it is confusing and scary and he doesn't like it, POV Second Person, afab Malcolm, but now he is dead! I am sorry, cassie is Malcolm's childhood friend, donalbain is called donna bc thats what he is called now. facts., he and duff did fuck at some point whoopsieeeee, he's trans but in the non binary way and for a long time he thought it was "oh I'm a dude" way, he/him lesbian cassie, im a minor thanes stan so ross is very important, it's not explicit., local man does not know what nonbinary is but he is it, non binary Lennox, people are gay. it's a shock!! /j, thank you to Andy for reading this for me :3 ily sir, therefore. it is better written /hj, they're mentioned ONCE I think I should just say but they are nonbinary, this is the spiritual successor to children of the king fun fact!!, this was written for me and me ONLY I just CHOOOSE to post things, to clarify Cassie is the captain from act 1 scene 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29682939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thamys020/pseuds/Thamys020
Summary: Everything is so much, sometimes.
Relationships: Macduff/Malcolm, Ross/Angus (mentioned)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Be Not Afraid (of your new job and the complications that come with it)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my self this is sooo self indulgent but if you found this... enjoy :3

You are the eldest son of the king. 

There is so much. Everything is always so much. 

You’re the king now, and there is so much. 

You have friends, yes. But they are few and far between. Your cousin (father’s side, mother’s side cousin is dead, gone away now) is a mormaer, but you haven’t been close to her in so long. She is so different. She is so much. 

Caithness returns to her home in the north, taking over after the death of her brother. Menteith returns home too (she has always been closer to Donalbain than to you). Angus gets into land spats with a thane your father favored, and to act in either’s favor would pit more people against you. Ross grieves and doesn’t speak to you. Lennox has always been distant, and you don’t want them to (do something) hate you on the drop of a hat. 

And Duff. 

Duff stays in Fife. He does not reach out. You don’t either. 

If you reach out you will remember (his hands on your hips, his lips on yours, his eyes, beautiful, dark, sparkling) what happened the night after. Maybe he is ashamed. Why wouldn't he be? 

Duff stays in Fife and does not reach out. Because maybe he doesn’t love you like you love him. 

Your father’s thanes wonder aloud when you will get a wife and it burns because you will never look at a woman and feel love. Feel anything. 

You kissed a girl once, when you were sixteen. Cassie was pretty in the ways that all people were, there was nothing that made your chest spark and burn like when seeing Duff. Cassie’s eyes were green, brilliant, and his hair was auburn, pulled into a small bun at the back of his head, held with a clip you’d given him. Cassie was your best friend, and you had kissed, just to be sure. You told Cassie you felt nothing, and that’s when Cassie admitted that his preference was to women, that he had felt nothing too.    
_ When I am king _ . You say.  _ I will marry you because we are best friends, and you will be free to pursue any woman you want _ . _ Shake on it. _ And Cassie took your hand and shook. 

But Cassie is dead now. Cassie died because of your father, keeping him around to tell the story. And he’d collapsed into your arms and you’d spent the entire next few hours holding his limp body and screaming.  _ What about our plan? You were supposed to be queen! _

(One month late.)

The lords want you to choose a wife. A wife. A wife who will like men in the same way you do. A thane’s daughter, perhaps. But why would you marry a woman who you will never love? Put someone through that heartbreak? 

There is just so much. Everything gathers around your neck, strangling, too tight. It is so much. 

Do this do that do this do that marry a woman  _ marry a woman _ and Duff does not reach out. Maybe he too is scared of remembering. 

Remembering that night.

(Gentle hands on your hips, soft lips on yours, eyes that seem to glow staring you down, pinning you to the bed in the gentlest of ways) 

The noose tightens. You do what you can. But it is not enough. They want an heir, and you cannot provide. You don’t want to provide. 

(It is better to have two sons than one daughter and one son, especially when the daughter is the eldest. Socially acceptable. Two sons are better.) 

(When one says they don’t feel like a girl the only other option is boy. What happens when your sense of self falls between the two?)

(Two months late.) 

There is a sickness. You send doctors and food and make sure no one starves. You feel sick too, but only sometimes. 

Donna holds your hair back as you throw up. There is so much hair. Curly and thick, just like your mother’s. You don’t braid it. You like it long. You want to fill it with beads. 

He is giving you a pitying look. 

You don’t know why that is. 

Duff does not reach out. 

Ross reaches out. He is gentle and good and kind. Ross cares for you in a way you haven’t felt cared for since Banquo. 

(Fleance could be the heir the courts seek)

Ross tells you it’s going to be alright. That Scotland is alright. That you are doing a good job. You ask about Duff. 

Duff needs time. Ross says that Duff needs time. You worry there won’t be enough.

(Three months late.)

Butterflies are returning to your grandmother’s gardens. Some have taken residence in your stomach. They flutter like little kicks. Like little feet.

You do not like to eat much food, but you’re suddenly so hungry. You work until the hunger pangs get too much. 

Too much food. You throw some up the next morning.

It’s all so much. 

Everyone seems sated when Donna returns. He could be your heir. But he has no desire for the crown. And the strings tighten.

_Why can’t you do something for me for once?!_ _Just become king when I die. You would like it._

(He wouldn't like it. You know this.)

_ It will be fun _ . 

(It isn’t)

You relent because you can’t force someone to do something they wouldn't like. It is bitter. Why is he allowed a choice? 

(Four months late)

This could be a fluke. 

This could be your body’s way of protesting this new arrangement. 

(It could be a result of that night)

It can’t  _ possibly  _ be anything other than a fluke. 

Duff does not reach out. 

He needs time. 

Ross comes back. He is good and gentle. He loves you in a parental way. A stable parental way. He helps you with math and with penmanship (yours is awful). He is good to you. 

You don’t know if you can tell him what’s going on. You don’t want him to leave. 

He talks about Angus, about how he is doing. There is so much tenderness in how he speaks. It makes you ache. You wonder if Duff talks about you like that. 

You wonder if Ross loves Angus in the way you love Duff. 

(You hope so, even if it dooms his soul)

People are starting to slack off. They have other things to do than pester the king. There is still so much. 

(Five months)

(Please god no)

Donna already knew. He knows a way to stop this from continuing. 

He had to know for sure before offering it. He asks who the father is and you snap that you are, defensive and scared. You are a boy. 

(Right?)

You are a boy. 

_ You are a boy _ . 

You are the eldest son of the king. You have to be a boy. 

(Right??)

Donna wants to know if you’re going to get rid of it. 

You know who’s child this is. 

Duff does not reach out. 

You want him to. You don’t want to make the first move. 

(You want him to tell you it’s okay)

(You don’t know what to do)

(You want Cassie)

(Ross)

(Anyone)

(Six months)

Time is running out. It is getting warmer. You were a winter child, born in a snowstorm, weak and quiet. The child in your stomach is stronger than you are. 

Donna says to take your time. He is here for you. What are brothers for? 

You have to be a boy. Because what is a boy but the opposite of a girl? There is no other option.

(What about Kieran?)

(They aren’t either. But you feel like both. That’s bad. Not right.)

You dream the child dies before you have the chance to know it. That you bury it in the garden with no name and no headstone, under the rose bushes. There is blood in the garden, on the stone path to the violets. There is blood in the grass. There is so much blood. You aren’t sure if it’s yours or the child’s

It kicks you awake, reminding you of its existence.

If it’s a girl, you want to name it Cassie.

If it’s a boy, you don’t know. 

(Boys don’t bear children)

(But you’re not a boy, are you. You’re something else entirely. Both. Neither.) 

You write to Ross. 

(You cry when he writes back)

Ross comes and hugs you. He tells you it’s okay. He holds you tight to his chest and you sob and sob and sob. It’s so much. It’s too much. 

You tell him. He doesn’t say anything for a long while. 

_ Oh, Malcolm _ . He says.  _ I’m not mad _ . 

He isn’t?

He loves men too. He loves Angus like you love Duff. He is just like you. 

You aren’t as alone as you thought you were. It feels so good. It feels so freeing. 

He reaches out and takes your hand. He smiles. He holds you close.

You hold him too. 

(He is nice. A comforting sort of man, always has been)

(Seven months)

Ross stays. 

Ross and Donna gather tight around you. Because they love you. And it’s okay to be loved.

Ross encourages you to write to Duff. To explain what is going on. He assures you that Duff would not hurt you. 

(You know Duff would never hurt you. You don’t know if he hates you)

So you write the letter. It takes three tries for your hand to stop shaking on the words. You send it. 

Ross asks if you want to keep the child. 

(You’ve taken to calling them Cassie. You want a little girl)

Duff comes to your home. He says he didn't want to just write back. He wanted to be here in person. Your heart drops. 

(He doesn’t want the child. He doesn’t want you)

He says he misses having a family. 

(Wait.)

He says he misses you. 

(What?)

You ask him if he’ll stay. 

He says yes. 

(You didn't expect him to say yes)

(Eight months)

You travel to Ross’ house, away from home to have the child. You cannot risk the gossip, and Ross’ home is trustworthy enough. Donna comes too, because you cannot leave him behind. Duff insists you ride in a wagon, because he is worried. 

You work a bit on the way there until Ross insists you stop stressing yourself. 

The road to Ross is smooth and easy. There are flowers along the path, and a butterfly hitches a ride on your hand. It flutters once, twice. It’s wings are orange. 

(Butterflies are for little girls)

(Are you a little girl?)

(Have you ever been?)

(You’ve never been a girl, you were always the princess, soon to be married off to a boy your father liked, and that terrified you more than anything)

(You were nothing but breeding stock)

(A babymaker)

(Wife)

( _ She _ )

When you reach Ross’ house, it is near nightfall.

His house is cozier. Lived in. A place a child could grow and be happy. It is no Dunkeld but it is safe in a way Dunkeld never was. 

Angus is there. You expected it, but the way he is gentle and warm to Donna makes you feel happy too. 

Donna seems happy with Angus, in a way he probably wouldn't be if he was king. If he was next in line. 

(You don’t want to subject Cassie to this life)

(It’s your only option)

(It shouldn’t be)

Duff comes into your room.

_ Ross doesn’t have a lot of bedrooms _ . He says. You let him sleep in your bed. You wake with his arms wrapped around you, and you wrapped around him. 

It’s nice. 

You two share a bed more often after that.

(Nine months)

(Here we go)

You don’t think you’re a boy, and you don’t think you’re a girl. You aren’t a girl. You haven’t been, not entirely, for a long time. But you haven’t been entirely a girl, either. 

You’re some sort of in between. 

You’re the eldest  _ child _ of the king. 

It’s a balm on the soul. You are Donna’s eldest  _ sibling _ . You are Cassie’s (Osbjorn or Nevan, for a boy)  _ parent _ . You are (Maybe) Duff’s  _ partner _ . 

It’s a new word. It’s a good word. 

It’s  _ your _ word. 

Ross doesn’t react with much surprise, only adjusting his language accordingly. Angus seems excited, and Donna teases you relentlessly about the fact that your baby names are (apparently) weird. 

Duff is also fine with it. That gives you more relief than you should. 

(He says you’re his partner now. And that is a good thing, and he kisses you once. It is nice)

And then the baby comes.

You dig your nails into Donna’s hand and bite  _ hard _ on your tongue, because if you scream  _ you’ll be heard _ . And you know from living in Dunkeld that if you are heard there are consequences. 

(It hurts more than any pain you’ve ever known, more than being slapped or stabbed or punched or kicked or pinched or sewn back together and still you try not to scream. There’s blood in your mouth)

But Donna says it’s okay to scream, and that it’s safe. 

So you scream, and scream and scream and scream.

Another scream joins the fray when your voice gives out.

_ It’s a boy! _ The boy is placed into your arms and you stare with wide eyes at the child, squirming and wailing. You rock him to sleep, exhausted already. He has dark hair. Like you. Like your mother. Like Duff

_ Nevan Mac Ainsley _ . You say.  _ Someone else take the baby. _

He’s lifted from your arms by Ross, who insists you rest. 

You take a nap. 

A long nap. 

And when you wake up, the baby is back in your arms, also asleep. Duff is asleep in a chair, Donna is asleep on the bed, and Ross and Angus are occupying another chair. 

You look back down to Nevan, stroking his hair. 

You feel content. 

Free. 

Happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> my Tumblr is @funky-sea-cryptid if y'all wanna follow me for more Macbeth hot takes


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